El Star
by ReaperStygian
Summary: Harry Potter is given another chance at a life, one where he can be happy, and at peace... one in Middle Earth. (Elfling!Harry, SLASH)
1. To Be, Or Not To Be

**A/N: I'm doing this because I want to. I have no plot planned, no updates planned, this could fizzle out in a few days, or this could turn into a huge story. I have vague scenarios, enough to tell you this will contain slash if you didn't see the romance tag... but not until Harry is older.**

 **I haven't even read all the LOTR books, though I am planning to. I have seen the movies, but most of my information is coming from quick google searches. I don't know how many plot holes this will have. It'll also be cliche... the first chapter is super short but others should be longer.**

 **That is the only warning you'll get. Enjoy.**

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It had taken Harry way too long to figure out that he wasn't aging, even as his friends grew and matured around him. When he said 'friends' he meant it in the most bitter way possible, by the way. Ron, Hermione, and everyone else didn't betray him or anything, and they made it clear he was always welcomed with them, no matter what. But even Harry could see how they acted around him. The way they averted their eyes, cleared their throats and acted awkwardly.

He was different from them, on a whole different level, and they knew it. They just weren't comfortable around him any longer, and the sooner Harry accepted that the sooner he could deal with it.

So, when he turned twenty-five years old, he left without another word. He traveled the world for a bit. Watching as time passed by, learning different magics, teaching himself a handful of languages. It was a lonely life, but he survived. He had always prided himself on being very adaptable. After all, when a half-giant showed up at his house declaring that he was a wizard, he hadn't really fought that much and had accepted it easily enough.

Then, it had happened. The muggles had discovered magic, and they weren't happy. For the first time in a long time, Harry rejoined the wizarding world and played yet another huge part in another war... a war which they had lost. A war which destroyed the majority of the entire population, and had shown Harry sights he wished for nothing more than to forget.

So much blood, and death, and torture. Horrible things that seared themselves into his mind like a brand, adding to his collection of scars, and leaving him hollow and empty. The worst part was probably the children. The most innocent of all, falling easily, cut down one after another.

Then, Harry had died.

Darkness was everywhere. Harry couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. If he even had a hand. Time moved slowly, and everything was fake and real at the same time. It didn't feel like he was in whatever afterlife existed, it felt as though he was floating in between, waiting. Waiting for... something. He wasn't sure what, but calmness filled him, keeping him relaxed and quiet in a situation most would freak out in.

Finally, after what could have been seconds or billions of years, a voice echoed around him. It was loud and terrible, but it didn't bother Harry or disrupt the calmness. **"Harry James Potter, you've died at last,"** the voice said, sounding empty like it really couldn't care less. **"I am known as Namo, or Mandos. I am the doomsman and the judge of the dead."**

Harry blinked (at least, he thought maybe he did) at Namo/Mandos. "Am I being judged?" he questioned softly, voice soft and quiet as if he were half asleep. What would his judgment say? He had killed people, and done some terrible things, after all, telling himself, in the end, it would save the most lives. So maybe, despite who he had saved, the people he had killed would still bring him down in the end. If so, he would be alright with it, believing that he deserved it.

But it was not to be. **"You are not being judged today, Harry. You are, after all, my 'Master.'"** For a moment he was confused, but then he understood. The Deathly Hallows. Master of Death. The thought had occurred to him, over his long lived life, but he had dismissed it, if he were being completly honest. After all, he had thrown the items away, and when he went back to find them, all three had vanished. He had decided it didn't matter, either way.

But still, if he wasn't being judged, then what exactly was happening? Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and for the first time the calmness was broken and he felt sick. "Don't bring me back," he spoke quickly, voice pleading. "Please, I can't do it again. Haven't I done enough? I'm okay with dying, I'll welcome it... I want to see my family again."

 **"You shall,"** Mandos spoke, and for a moment Harry relaxed, before growing tense again at the next words uttered. **"But not yet. Do not panic. I'm not sending you to your world, but another- a world known as Ea, more specifically Middle Earth in the year 2641."**

"And will I be happy in this world?" Mandos didn't reply, and Harry decided that he really didn't like this 'Mandos.' But he also clearly didn't have much of a choice in the matter, now did he? "I have a feeling there's more to this then what you are telling me," Harry said quietly. Once more, Mandos didn't answer. "Well," Harry finally said, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

 **"No."**

Oh, so he answered that then? Harry relaxed back into the darkness, knowing he probably wouldn't see it for a long time, as he waited for Mandos to get on with his business. **"Well you will still have the memories of this life, they will be dulled, like a very long dream."** He frowned. He wasn't sure he liked that, but it may help him adapt to the new world quicker at least. **"Good luck."**

And then, the darkness faded, and Harry was once again thrust into a world he wanted nothing to do with.


	2. You Are My Sunshine

**A/N: Mhn, surprising amount of follows. Thank you. ^^ Special thanks to Siel 03 for my first review. Also, yeah, 'Harry' is childish and stupid, but that's because he's now a child. His life as Harry Potter is blurry like mentioned in the last chapter. He doesn't want to think about it anyways, since it's bad, so his child mind is ignoring it. When he comes of age (100 for elves I think?) then he'll remember everything. So don't be like 'he's not acting his age' because... yes. Yes, he is. That's not to say I'm going to ignore his life before, it'll be mentioned lots... eh. You'll see.**

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He wouldn't call it waking up because it didn't feel as though he'd been asleep in the first place. It felt like he'd had a dream, yes, but it was as though he'd had a dream while being awake... if that was even possible. He wasn't sure if it was. He only pondered this for a moment though, before he got distracted, ignoring his first thoughts. Instead, the being previously known as Harry Potter opened his eyes.

Green. Green everywhere. It instantly became his favorite color. It was just so bright, and vibrant... and green. A tiny, childish giggle escaped the elfling, and he sat up from where he had been laying down on the floor, glancing around more. He was in a forest. Trees grew tall around him, and he was sitting on soft moss. Standing up, he glanced down at himself. He couldn't see much, but he could see enough to know that he was clothed in light, cheap material. He wasn't wearing any shoes, and all the scars he'd gotten from before were still there.

Narrowing his eyes, the elfling looked at the writing on the back of his hand. He couldn't read it anymore, but he remembered what it said. 'I must not tell lies.' Getting that had hurt. He remembered that, and everything else. But it was blurry, only there if he really focused on it. He couldn't remember his name either, but quickly decided it wasn't important, his hand dropping back down to his side.

He was in such a lovely forest, he should be exploring, not thinking about before. Before was something to worry about later, much later. The elfling giggled again, softer this time, and started to walk forwards. He was dizzy and dazed, but his footsteps were still light, and his balance was perfect. It felt like the very ground shifted to keep him upright.

Seeing a big tree, the elfling squealed softly, quickly moving over to it. Exploring was fun, but climbing was even more fun. Grasping it, he easily pulled himself up, scaling the tree right to the top, where he perched carefully on a large branch, looking as far as the eye could see. Which was to say, a lot. His eyesight was so good! It hadn't been good before. Everywhere was just more green though, which was nice, but it also made something weird twist in the elfling's chest. He quickly decided he didn't like the feeling though, and blaming it on the tree, returned to the ground still, the feeling remained.

But still, the feeling remained. "Where is everyone?" the question escaped the elfling in a whisper, and he shivered. That was the feeling, summed up in that sentence. But it wasn't like that, it was more than one emotion. He was lonely and scared. Scared he was the only one in this big, green forest. Scared that he was all alone... For a moment he wavered, tears threatening to spill, but with a tiny sniff, he pushed them away. Crying wouldn't help him. He should return to his first activity, that is, exploring. Then he would find someone, and everything would be okay because that person wouldn't leave him alone. They would help him. Though, really, he wasn't sure with what. Where did he live? He didn't have a home...

The tears threatened to come back, and he whined softly, forcing his feet to move once more. Thinking about sad stuff made him sad. Looking for something to distract him, the elfling saw a stick. Eyes lighting up, he darted forwards, grabbing it. It wasn't a stick any longer- it was a sword, great and powerful. Raising it, he charged forwards, dodging in between trees and waving his sword at his enemies. Fighting and exploring at the same time!

The elfling played for a long while, with the tireless energy only a child could have when the stick broke against a tree. This wasn't a problem, of course, as there were many more sticks- er, swords -laying around in the area. But this did bring his attention to the fact that he still hadn't found anyone, and it was getting dark out... and therefore cold. Cheap clothes and no shoes weren't doing well against the nighttime air. Not to mention he was hungry and thirsty.

So the elfing gave up on the game of sticks, wrapping his arms tightly around himself and sitting at the base of a tree. This time, he wasn't able to stop himself, and he started to cry. Soft tears shook his body with their force. Softly, he started to sing. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you make me happy when skies are grey... you never know, dear, how much I love you... please don't take... my sunshine away..." He continued singing softly. The song was from before, but he didn't know any songs from here yet. It was a nice song anyways, and the elfing wished quietly to himself that he could be someone's sunshine, just like in the song.

Then's when he heard voices. He didn't know the language, but it made him perk up anyways his singing stopping. Voices! Voices, who would bring him home, and give him food, and warmth, and something to drink... A brilliant smile washed over his face, and he scrambled up to his feet quickly, moving in the direction of the voices. As he moved they got louder, they seemed to be walking towards him as well. He heard their words, but still didn't understand them. "The singing came from this direction," the voice said, the words rough and confusing. "Come on, hurry up!"

Finally, the elfling stumbled through a tiny patch of bushes, bumping hard into a man and tumbling backward, falling to the ground. "Ow," he exclaimed, more surprised than hurt. The men were tall, and dirty, covered in brown mud. This hair was messy and brown, and his eyes were green and cold. There were lots of men, but the elfling wasn't sure how to count yet. If he could, he would know that there were five. The one he bumped into said something to him in a cold, rough voice, making the elfling flinch back a bit.

These's people didn't seem nice, they seemed like his uncles from before. Mean, big, and greedy. The elfling frowned at those thoughts. No, he couldn't judge them so quickly. "I don't understand what you're saying," he said instead, quietly. The men's eyes widened and they turned to each other, talking quickly. Suddenly, the elfling was grabbed and jerked forwards, and hand grabbing at his ear. The man's voices grew louder.

"Please don't grab me!" The elfling said quickly, squirming. The man didn't listen though, they just kept talking to each other. After a moment, the elfling stopped struggling, as it would clearly do him no good. He felt like crying, but he had already cried so much that day, and he wasn't a baby. Instead, he forced himself to hold still, despite the tight grip still on his ear and his hair. The men talked to each other for a few moments, and slowly their eyes lit up with greed, and they seemed to come to a decision.

The one holding onto the elfling pulled out a rope, letting the elfling go. Now afraid of these men, he tried to run quickly, but one of the others grabbed him and held him still, the first one tying the rope tightly and painfully around his wrists. Now there was no 'quick judging' this hurt, he should never have approached these men! Tears started flowing, and the elfling sobbed softly. One of the men said softly to him in his sharp tone, before raising his hand and hitting him.

Jerking at the pain that exploded across his face, the elfling made a noise of shock and surprise. But the strike didn't stop his tears, it just increased them. To solve this problem, a rope was shoved in his mouth as well. It hurt, rubbing his skin raw where it touched, and making his dry mouth even drier. Finally, the men shoved him down, leaving him be as they started to unpack their bags and pile up some sticks in the middle. The elfling squirmed, trying to escape the rope, or at least move, but it was hard, even more so since he couldn't stop crying.

He wished he'd just stayed where he had been, and kep singing. Maybe someone nice would have found him... or maybe there were no nice people, and these mean men were the only ones in the entire area! Or there were lots, but they were all mean. Maybe they just hated little kids, or singing, or something like that. The elfling didn't know, but he hoped it wasn't like that, even though he was quickly started to believe it.

As the men started a fire, and ate, blankets wrapped around them, the elfling was left out to the cold, shivering and crying, his stomch sending waves of hunger through his body.

Maybe it would have been better to stay in the before, no matter how lonely and sad and painful it had been there.


	3. Numb (I can't feel you there)

**A/N: Chapter three, yay! Also, 'Harry' is talking elfish (Sindrian, I think it's called?) while the men are speaking the common tongue. In this, Harry only knows Sindrian(?). To answer a review about him not being able t read, that's why... also, he's a CHILD now, they don't have great reading skills.**

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Over the next few days, the elfling became sure that everyone in the world probably hated him, and he learned why. It happened when he saw his reflection. He had huge, green eyes, like emeralds, and pitch black hair that went down to his mid-back like a midnight waterfall. His skin was pale and unblemished, other than a small mark on his forehead (as well as the other scars on his other various body parts). But the thing that made everyone hate him was his ears.

He knew this because, on the second day, they had passed by someone. Someone who had been worried about the elfling until they had seen his ears. They weren't normal, they were pointed. And the elfling already knew from his experience in the before that being different was bad, and normally got you in a lot of pain and trouble.

He got used to traveling with the group pretty fast. He learned to stay quiet, and not cry, or laugh, or talk, or play. If he did, he would get hit. And if he was hit, and made a noise of pain, he'd get hit again. Same if he acted like the rocks and glass he walked on hurt his feet or the rope hurt his wrists and mouth. It took him a bit to learn this, so his skin was stained with purples and blues and reds from when he hadn't followed the rules. He hated the rules so much, but he hadn't the punishments even more.

He also knew he wasn't allowed to eat or drink, only once a day, in the mornings, and only a tiny bit. And if he went to close to the fire, he got in trouble as well. The worst trouble he'd been in was when he couldn't tell him his name though. They had all pointed at themselves, saying their names, but when it was the elfling's turn he honestly didn't know what to say. It made them mad, and they hit him a lot. They didn't ask again though, but the elfling came up with an answer if they did ask. 'Freak.' That was what his old uncle called him, and these people seemed a lot like his uncle.

The elfling, who now called himself 'Freak' wasn't sure where they were going. They had stayed in the forest and had been walking in a certain direction ever since, only stopping at night to rest. He didn't know how much longer it was going to be, but since the men started to act really excited ever since that morning, he was guessing they were almost there. Probably the men's home. Freak wondered what would happen to him there. Maybe it would be like before, and he would have to do chores and work.

At least he knew how to do that. Learning the first time had been the worst because he had been really bad at it. But since he already knew how it wouldn't be as bad this time, which meant fewer punishments. Freak speed up a bit, as the men did the same, not wanting to be left behind and get in trouble. One of the men said something to one of the others, and they all stopped, making Freak stop as well. The men who had been spoken to turned to Freak, pulling something out of his bag and putting it on him, making Freak squirm in surprise.

It was clothing. It had a hood and was a bit like a dress, but the front was open. The hood was pulled up onto his face, casting him into the shadows. Then, the rope was put back into his mouth. This surprised Freak slightly. He knew not to talk out loud, and it wasn't like they would understand him anyways, so why bother? He didn't fight though, obviously. Once the hood was secured, along with the rope, the men went back to their very fast walking, talking to each other, leaving Freak to stumble behind.

It was only a few moment later that he learned why he had been gagged. Two figures dropped down from the trees in front of him, and one of the men grabbed him, hiding him behind him. Freak couldn't see the men, but he could hear them, and what they said made his heart jump. "Who goes there? This is Rivendell," one of them spoke. Freak understood them! They spoke in the same language he did! What did this mean? He longed to see if they, too, had pointy ears. Maybe they were freaks as well?

He sort of hoped not. He didn't want to be alone, but if they were freaks then they were going to go to hell and be slaves like him. The men spoke in the language they always spoke in, and the two unknown people spoke in that language as well. Could they speak both? Maybe they weren't freaks but had learned the freak language so that they could talk to their slaves.

Then, the men and the unknown pair stopped talking, and the unknown pair started talking to each other, Freak easily being able to understand them. He listened in, feeling a bit bad for it, but he was too curious not to. "They say they had something to trade us, but they don't look like they had anything of value," one of them said. Freak's eyes widened. Where they trying to trade him..? The pair was right though, he wasn't of any value.

"They do seem rather sure though," the other one replied. "We should take them to Ada. If it's nothing, they'll be on their way. It's it something, then Ada can decide." The other one made a noise of agreement, and they switched back to the language Freak didn't understand. In another moment, they were moving again, the men's hand on his shoulder, gentle for now. The two unknowns settled, walking with them, hands resting gently on their bows.

Freak watched them quietly, eyes wide. Their bows looked so cool, and strong! Where they warriors? Strong, powerful warriors... so amazing. They both looked really alike, with the same dark hair, grey eyes, and shape of their faces. They even wore the same clothes, chain-mail outfits. That just proved they were warriors. So in awe of the warriors, Freak forgot to check on their ears.

One of them glanced down at him and frowned softly. They said something to him, but Freak didn't understand and he wasn't allowed to answer anyways, so one of the men answered instead. The one that looked at him looked at the other. "The child, something's wrong," he said softly, voice smooth and worried.

The second one cast a quick glance at Freak, and then looked away. The movement was so quick and small that it was barely noticeable. "He's hurt, you can see it in the way he walks," the second one agreed. "They're in our territory, and we're only an hour away. We shall not let them leave without checking on him, but until then, we should leave it be."

Were they worried about him? They didn't have to be, no need to worry about a freak of all things. The Freak. But they'd see that soon enough, whether he was traded to them or they 'checked' on him. Something warm filled his heart as he thought of their concern. They were kind and great. Showing an emotion like that even for a weak nothing like him.

They walked for a while, mostly in silence. It was nice though, better than the men. They were always loud, scaring away all the animals as they walked, annoying and mean. Freak even saw a bunny! He had leaned forwards to look at it, and one of the men quickly pulled him back. But when Freak glanced at the warrior's, one of them was smiling slightly at him. Underneath the shadows of his hood, Freak blushed slightly, looking away shyly. He was sad when the bunny ran away once they walked past it, but he hoped maybe they would see another one later?

Finally, they came to the warrior's home. Freak's eyes widened with awe. It was beautiful. He remembered another home, a huge castle. But even compared to that place, huge and amazing and wonderful, the warrior's home was just as great, if not more so. And if he was traded to them, then he could maybe live there too! Even if he did the chores and got punishments, it would still be wonderful to live there. Seeing it every day. Even the men, big and ugly and stupid, stopped for a moment in awe.

The warriors spoke to the men in their language, and they walked a bit more, inside the home. They stopped in front of a door, and the warriors went inside while the men waited outside. This was it then, where they had been traveling this entire time. It was worth it, that was for sure. Even if he just saw it and left, it would still be worth it... The doors opened again, and the men, along with Freak, entered.

More unknown speaking. Freak gazed quietly at the new person. He was just as beautiful as the warriors. Was this the warrior's father, their ada? Suddenly, Freak was grabbed, pulled in front of the men. To his surprise, the hood was pulled down, a knife pressed against his throat. It was like the entire room froze, Freak himself stiffening. No, no he didn't like this at all! He was the center of attention, and it was scary! Tears filled his eyes, increasing his panic, crying was bad, what was he doing? He had learned this, he was bad, he was going to be punished! The elfling quickly drove himself into a state of panic, unknowing of the commotion he was causing.

The two warriors had their bows out in a flash, arrows notched and ready. "Ada, it's an elfling!" one of them spoke, sounding horrified. "There hasn't been an elfling born in so long...! How is this possible? And in the hands of men? He's hurt!"

"I can see that," the father replied, voice flat, and eyes murderous. "And they want to trade? Ha. Elladan, Elrohir. Give them their answer."

An arrow went into the arm of the men holding Freak, and Freak fell hard, closing his eyes tightly. His hands were tied behind him, so he had no way to stop his fall. But arms grabbed him tightly before he could hit the ground, the men's pained and angry words echoing in the background behind him. Freak kept his eyes tightly closed, tears flowing harshly. The rope was gently pried from his mouth, before the one who had caught him moved onto the rope keeping his hands tied together.

The one helping to him spoke softly, holding him carefully pressed into his chest so he didn't see his twin hurting the men and tying them up instead. "It's okay, elfling," he spoke. "My name is Elladan, you're safe now.. you're okay."

Freak's sight faded to black.


	4. Never Alone

**A/N: First of all, thank you for the amazing support thus far! Now, I just wanted to answer some review questions: Yes, my story is cliche, read the first A/N. Harry didn't use magic because he's a child and doesn't know how, besides he may not even have magic in his new body (he probably won't, but it's not a for sure decision yet). This is going to be pre-LOTR for a while, but will eventually catch up. Yes, taking an elfling to elves to trade is probably stupid; I never said the people who found Harry were smart. I think that's all I need to answer, for now, ask more questions and if it doesn't spoil anything big I'll answer it in the next chapters A/N.**

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When Freak woke up, he felt strangely comfortable. It was kind of surprising. Ever since he had gotten to this weird world and had opened his eyes for the first time, he had known pain. Not right away, but quick enough, and he had decided that said pain was all he was going to receive. "Elfling? Are you awake?" Flinching at the voice, Freak opened his eyes instantly, focusing on the one who had spoken to him.

It was one of the males from earlier- Elladan, maybe? They were both there, Elladan and Elrohir. Eyes flickering around, Freak found that he was on a bed. A comfy bed. A comfy, probably bouncy bed. For a moment Freak felt the urge to test that theory out, but he pushed it away- no playing. "U-uh..." Freak looked at Elladan and Elrohir again, biting his lip shyly. "Hi...?"

They both seemed to relax, exchanging looks. "Elladan, you go get Ada," Elrohir offered. "He'll want to know that the elfling is awake." Elladan nodded, but looked reluctant, as he stood and left. Elrohir looked back at him. "Elfling? Are you alright?" Elfling? Why did they keep calling him that? Freak looked down at his body. It didn't hurt, so he nodded in response to the question. "Ah- good. What's your name?"

He finally had a chance to reply to the question! The men had never asked again, but Elrohir was. Freak smiled shyly, sitting up a bit more. "Freak," he replied softly, voice still quiet and gentle. He hadn't expected the reaction he was given though. Elrohir's eyes widened a bit, before darkening with anger and disgust. Eyes widening a bit, Freak flinched back against the sheets.

He made him angry. He made the first nice (it seemed he was nice for now, at least) person he had met _angry._ Great. This was it. Elrohir was angry, and now he would throw Freak away. Maybe into another forest where he could wander around until more mean men found him. Elrohir probably didn't know he was a freak yet, and now that Freak had told him he didn't want Freak anymore and- "That," Elrohir said slowly, "is not going to be your name. That's a mean name."

Freak's panic faded a bit, replaced with confusion. He looked at Elrohir with wide, surprised eyes. "Mean?" he repeated, and Elrohir nodded. Well, he supposed it might be a mean name if someone wasn't a freak. But since Freak clearly was a freak, it was a fine name for him. Oh no... maybe these people didn't know he was a freak? Well, he should probably get this over and done with then. Reaching up, Freak brushed some of his long hair behind his shoulder, pointing at his ear. "But I am a freak," he spoke quietly, turning to show Elrohir.

Elrohir sighed, and he seemed so sad. Turning, Elrohir brushed his hair aside, showing Freak his ear as well- which was pointed. Eyes widening, Freak's mouth fell open slightly in shock. Elrohir was a freak too? "We aren't freaks," Elrohir explained. "We're elves. You're an elfling, a child elf. It's our species, and it's a great species- we are strong, powerful, smart, fast, and gentle. Be proud to be an elf, young one."

Freak (was he a freak? He had been so sure, but now...) didn't get a chance to answer, because Elladan and the elf (wow) from earlier, the twin's Ada he supposed, walked in. They both smiled at him slightly when they saw him, moving over to sit like Elrohir was. They had a quick conversation in the language that the men had spoken, leaving Freak to stare at them blankly, not understanding their language still. It was pretty annoying.

Finally, the twins Ada turned towards him. "Elfling, I think we need to find you a name," he said gently. "My name is Elrond, these are my sons Elladan and Elrohir. I also have a daughter, Arwen, but she isn't home at the moment. First of all, though, do you know where your Ada and-"

"Dead." He remembered that much from before at least. The image of a green light flickered behind his eyelids when he closed them, so he opened them quickly. He didn't want to think of that.

Elrond looked sad, but not surprised. "Would you like to stay with us for a while then?" he offered. "Until we can figure out where you came from, who your next of kin are, little elfling."

Freak nodded quickly, eyes burning bright. These nice people wanted him to stay with them? Like he was about to say no to that. "Well then, what will we name you?" Elladan asked, tilting his head at the young elf, a smile of his own appearing on his face. Freak looked around at the three of them. Elrohir. Elladan. Elrond. El. The word translated to star in his head. "Elon," Freak said hesitantly, the name just feeling... correct in his head.

He was rewarded with smiles.

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Elon wasn't allowed to leave his bed for what felt like forever but was probably only a few days. He had to get better. Getting better consisted of eating and sleeping. The food was really good though, so at least they had that going for them.

He didn't see many people other then Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond, but he was okay with that. They were nice to him, and he liked them. They asked a lot of questions about his past, and Elon didn't have much to tell them. He felt like telling them about before would be a stupid, bad decision. He told them small things. His parents were dead. He had no family in this world. He had been with the men for a long while.

Whenever they pushed, he just declared he didn't want to talk about it and asked for a story instead- they had the best stories. At one point, he had just quietly asked if it mattered and if he couldn't just stay with them forever.

They seemed delighted by the question but sad at the same time. It was a strange mixture of emotions.

Elon also learned a bit about where they were as well. It was a place called Rivendale, or Imladris. Elrond was actually the ruler there, which made Elladan and Elrohir princes. Which was clearly amazing! It was the home to lots of elves. They knew about Elon, and they really wanted to meet him, which made Elon blush and look down. Did they want to meet him? He wasn't sure why so many elves wanted to meet him, he was sure they could find elves much more interesting then Elon was- just look at the twins, or at Elrond.

When Elon was finally let out of his bed, he really wanted to explore. But first, he was brought to his room- something that shocked him. "It's so big!" Elon cried, looking over at Elladan and Elrohir who laughed at his amazed reaction.

Elon walked around the room, exploring it since he couldn't explore outside. It really was big, way too big for him- he was small. "Only the best for our favorite elfling," Elladan teased, moving over to watch Elon, Elrohir on his heels.

Elon blushed, crawling out from under the bed to look up at the pair. "I didn't think you knew any other elflings," he admitted shyly, making the pair laugh slightly.

"We don't, elflings are rare," Elrohir explained, reaching down to pull the elfling by his feet up. "Hence why you're so important, little one. So we have to make sure that you stay safe." His eyes darkened slightly. "We have to make sure that men kind never touch you again." Menkind? If all men were mean, Elon decided he didn't mind that decision- but he wasn't sure if they were all mean. Maybe just some. Or a lot. Or a little. Who knows?

"I'm not that important," Elon decided quietly, looking down.

Elrohir kneeled in front of him, gently tucking two fingers under Elon's chin and raising it to look at him. "You are that important, and more," he insisted softly. Elladan joined his brother on his knees, clasping his hands with Elon's.

Continuing his brother's words, Elladan spoke with, "important to us. Important to all the elves. You're an elfling... a child, Elon. You're young, and you have an entire life in front of you. A life to do important things, to change things, to help people who need help. You can become a healer, a soldier, a warrior, a prince. A friend. Anything you want to become. You're an elfling, and we love you, Elon."

For some strange reason, Elon felt like he was going to cry. "You barely even know me," he said quietly, voice soft and shaking. He felt fragile in that moment, more then he had before, more then he had with the men. "You can't l-love me. You can't."

"We do," Elrohir insisted, "because you are an elfling, one of us. We protect and love our own Elon. We will find your family, and if it is true they have passed on, then- if you wish -you are welcome to stay here and find one, or even become part of our family with us and Ada and Arwen. But no matter what, we will personally make sure that you are never alone again."

"Never," Elladan confirmed, nodding his head, a fierce look in his eyes as if he were just daring anyone to say otherwise. "So when we say we love you, we really do mean it Elon."

"We're here for you."


End file.
